If You Take the Enemy Prince as Your Knight Chapter 80

“…”

 

I flinched for a moment. Could it be that Regen already knew all the unspoken rules of the masquerade ball? No, I shouldn’t overthink it and assign unnecessary meaning to it on my own.

 

I finished checking my hair and outfit in the mirror. A quick glance out the window told me dawn was about to break. I was debating whether to return to my quarters when Regen’s right hand extended toward me.

 

“Sasha, the banquet isn’t over yet. May I have this dance?”

 

From a distance, the harmonious sound of the orchestra reached my ears. The sweet melody, combined with his voice, captivated me, leaving me no room to refuse. “Alright.”

 

I entrusted my hand to him and left the resting area. We returned to the banquet hall, danced, and eventually headed home under the morning sunlight.

 

9. The Princesses’ Views on Marriage

A man sat on a throne adorned with jewels and gold. With his platinum hair swept back, save for a few strands, and icy blue eyes, he was none other than Emperor Axellion, the ruler of the throne. His face, resting on his hand as he gazed down from the dais, was filled with boredom and arrogance. Even the slightest offense to his mood would result in heads rolling and tumbling across the carpet.

 

The air in the audience chamber carried a palpable sense of menace, as if to warn of this. Its source was the imperial guards standing densely along both walls. A middle-aged chamberlain with graying hair and Dominic, dressed in a blue uniform, stood on either side of the throne. They, too, looked down at the person the emperor was scrutinizing.

 

The owner of the black crown of hair was Raval Gawain, the rapidly rising captain of the capital’s guard.

 

“Report.”

 

As someone who wielded the power of words, the mad emperor’s commands carried weight, even in the smallest of orders. Raval, acting more like a coward than a hunting dog, bowed his head low.

 

“I report to Your Majesty about the state of the capital. Recently, heinous criminals have been causing trouble, but it is not to the extent that Your Majesty needs to worry. We are mobilizing all the forces of the guards to apprehend all the troublemakers before the Founding Festival and ensure there are no gaps in security. I pledge everything to ensure that Your Majesty’s era of peace remains unblemished.”

 

“Excellent. I trust you.”

 

“Then, I shall take my le—”

 

“You must have more to report.”

 

“Pardon?”

 

The emperor provided the answer to the bewildered Raval. “Count Gawain, you must report not only the state of security but also the people’s sentiment and trends. I hear that lately art inspired by the princesses has been quite popular in the capital, hasn’t it?”

 

“Ah, yes! That is correct.”

 

Since the start of the imperial princesses’ succession competition, various forms of art, literature, and operas based on the theme had been actively created and were trending. The popularity was explosive. The master-servant relationship between the princesses and their personal knights was an inherently captivating theme, and Princess Silver Bird’s repeated underdog victories were incredibly dramatic.

 

“I am quite curious about how I am portrayed in these stories inspired by my daughters.”

 

Cultural narratives have a significant influence. The emperor was concerned about that, but the slow-witted Raval cheerfully exclaimed, “Yes! I will select the finest works and present them to Your Majesty! The citizens will be delighted to dedicate their creations to Your Majesty’s profound interest!”

 

The mad emperor chuckled at the remark, treating it as mere curiosity. “A dog can afford to be a little foolish.”

 

“Pardon?”

 

“You’re dismissed.”

 

“Ah, yes, Your Majesty.”

 

The hunched back and groveling steps, reminiscent of a sycophant, disappeared into the distance.

 

Meanwhile, a little away from the imperial throne, there were others present besides the imperial guards. Seated on specially prepared chairs, two individuals listened to Raval’s report together. They were the most prominent collaborators of the mad emperor.

 

The man in his thirties with dull blond hair tied back and perpetually squinting eyes was Marquis Zaken Osbond. The man in his fifties, whose drooping eyebrows gave him an impression of harmlessness, was Duke Arondit. The former, as everyone knew, played the role of the mad emperor’s executioner and jester, while the latter was a corrupt bureaucrat who demonstrated that one could drive people to their deaths without dirtying their own hands.

 

“My daughter as the protagonist. How displeasing,” The mad emperor muttered.

 

Duke Arondit responded nonchalantly, as if it were no big deal. “Hasn’t this happened before when the princes competed in competitions? It’s just the commoners idolizing the imperial family and nobility, leading to the proliferation of third-rate spectacles.”

 

“I hear it’s more active this time. One of my daughters is so exceptional that she’s been making quite a name of herself.” Rosasia was indirectly mentioned.

 

Duke Arondit, using his naturally affable demeanor, sought to placate the mad emperor. “It’s a good thing. The subjects are so engrossed in entertainment that we can call this a time of peace. Even the nobles eagerly await the competitions. On the contrary, I worry that Princess Silver Bird’s momentum might wane, dampening the excitement. When the amusements disappear, there are always those who start meddling in state affairs unnecessarily.”

 

“Is that so?” The sharpness in the mad emperor’s voice softened slightly.

 

Duke Arondit concluded with a safe dose of flattery. “It’s truly moving that Your Majesty, the wise ruler, is concerned about the sentiments of subjects who might be swayed by vulgarity. However, interest is merely interest. It doesn’t equate to public sentiment, so please don’t trouble yourself over it.”

 

At this moment, Marquis Zaken Osbond, seated on the opposite chair, curled his lips into a crooked smirk. Public sentiment? What nonsense. In his view, Duke Arondit had completely misread the mad emperor’s true intentions.

 

The mad emperor cared nothing for public sentiment. He had no need to. The absolute power he wielded stemmed from the knights imprinted with the authority of domination. In the face of overwhelming force, public sentiment was utterly insignificant. What the mad emperor feared, now as ever, was only one thing.

 

-The mad emperor’s son will kill his father and seize the throne.

 

It was a prophecy from the saintess. If the son of the mad emperor becomes the protagonist of the narrative, the oracle will inevitably come into play. The mouths of the subjects, who weave heroic tales, might casually chatter about that very oracle.

 

As someone who wielded the power of words, the mad emperor was wary of countless tongues. He was already a neurotic wreck who had slaughtered most of his own children. Depending on how he is provoked now, the fate of Princess Silver Bird could change drastically.

 

Not only Marquis Osbond but also Count Gildren, the chamberlain, fully grasped the gravity of the situation. In the silence, each calculated and decided on their course of action.

 

“Chamberlain, what do you think?”

 

The one who had long manipulated the mad emperor with his silver tongue seized the opportunity first.

 

“Just as the duke mentioned, since this occurred even during the princes’ competition, it might actually work out well.”

 

“Work out well?”

 

“Power only resides in the noble words of the noble. The vulgar tales spun by the lowly will only scatter that power.”

 

“Scatter the power?”

 

Marquis Osbond naturally interjected. “Indeed, Your Majesty. Isn’t there an old tale that many fairy tales originated from dreadful curses By spreading them widely among innocent children, the power of the curse weakens. I believe the current situation is quite similar.”

 

“Hmm… even you, Marquis Osbond?”

 

The mad emperor was intrigued. After all, it was rare for Marquis Osbond and the chamberlain, who usually held each other in contempt, to align their opinions. Knowing this themselves, the glances exchanged between Marquis Osbond and the chamberlain were far from amicable.

 

To think he’d say something beneficial to Princess Silver Bird.

 

His true intentions are as clear as day.

 

It was obvious why Marquis Osbond was defending Sasha. As the jester and executioner responsible for entertaining the mad emperor, he wanted the competitions he orchestrated to be provocative and polished, like a masterpiece.

 

In the past two competitions, Rosasia had exceeded expectations, elevating the artistic value of the events. To Marquis Osbond, Rosasia had now become an indispensable element of his grand performances.

 

Princess Silver Bird holds more value than the other princesses. As long as she enhances my masterpiece, I must keep her alive.